


Twisted

by callmecirce



Series: Miraculous One-Shots [8]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 21:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11998581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecirce/pseuds/callmecirce
Summary: Marinette wakes up in the middle of the night with her instincts screaming "danger".  She's relieved to recognize her visitor, but her relief is short-lived.WARNING:  There is no full rape in this story, but there is assault with the intention to rape.  If you don't want to read about this, you will want to skip this one.





	Twisted

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to this prompt, though I'm pretty sure this is NOT what the anon had in mind:
> 
>  
> 
> _For your prompt list, 174: “ Take off your clothes. ” for chat blanc and Marinette please?_

Marinette woke suddenly and bolted upright, fuzzy with sleep in spite of her heart pounding in her chest. She took in the stillness of her room and the quiet of the night, blinking to try to focus her bleary eyes.

It was surprisingly bright, thanks to the full moon hovering overhead, and she could see everything in her room except for the area directly beneath her loft bed.  And everything _seemed_ to be fine; nothing was moving, or out of place.  Still, the hairs rising on the back of her neck insisted that something was _wrong_.  She shook her grogginess away and shifted uneasily in her bed, nudging Tikki discreetly with her hand to ensure that the little kwami was awake. 

Tikki seemed to agree, because she squeezed Marinette’s finger without making a sound.  Had they been alone, she’d have floated into the air and sleepily asked what was wrong.

Perhaps someone was by her desk?  Marinette pushed the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting down there to see for herself, when a sudden shadow darkened her room.  She yelped reflexively, and then relaxed when she saw the familiar silhouette limned in the light of the moon.  

“Christ, Chat, you scared the hell out of me.”  He moved back to stand in the shadowed lee of the building, and she pushed her skylight open to join him on the balcony.  “What the hell are you doing here so late?”

He said nothing, but she got the barest hint of a shrug from the shadows.

Marinette felt gooseflesh slither over her skin, and her instincts began to shriek at her once more. Adrenaline flooded her system.  “Chat?  Is everything ok?”

His glowing green eyes narrowed ever so slightly.  “What’s the matter, Princess?”  He rasped, and she shivered again.  “Aren’t you happy to see your knight?”

“Chat, you’re worrying me. You’re—”  She cut herself off as her eyes widened, straining to see into the shadows and noting the details that she’d overlooked in her initial relief to see him.  

He was a little too tall, a little too slender, a little too shaggy.  This was _not_ her Chat Noir, not even an akumatized version of him.  This was someone else entirely.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Tikki saw Marinette’s shoulders relax, and felt fear swamp her.  She couldn’t sense Plagg, and the sense of DANGER had only increased at the sight of their feline visitor.

That was not Chat Noir, and Marinette was definitely in over her head.

Tikki sat frozen in the shadows as Marinette climbed out onto the balcony, weighing her options. Really, she had only two choices. She could stay close, and be on hand if Marinette called for her transformation.  Or, she could go to Plagg and summon the real Chat Noir for help. But which was safer?  She knew that Marinette was going to need her partner, with or without her transformation, but the idea of leaving her alone with this particular akuma was completely unpalatable.  And it was highly unlikely that she would even try to transform unless she could get away.

She dithered for a few more moments, and then with a whispered apology, she flew unheeded out into the night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Who are you?”  Marinette asked, her voice strong even if all she wanted to do was cry.

“Don’t you know me?” He purred silkily.  He slid out of the deep shadow and bowed theatrically, in just the way that her Chat might have done, but as the bright moonlight illuminated his white suit, it was even more apparent that this was not he. “Chat Blanc, at your service, dear Princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” she demanded, mentally cursing the wobble in her voice.  She clenched her fists to hide her trembling fingers.  “I don’t know you.  Why are you here?”  

He rose from his bow with a smirk, and clasped his hands behind his back.  “Why, I’m here for you, of course.”

“What?”  Marinette blinked, bewildered.   She didn’t recognize this man, even if he did bear a surprising resemblance to her Chat.  “Why?”

His smirk melted into a frown, and his eyes glinted dangerously.  “Because you’re his.”

Marinette took an involuntary step back.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play coy, Princess,” he growled, stalking towards her.  “I know how clever you are.”

Her eyes darted to the side and she began to edge toward the skylight in the hopes that she could escape down the stairs.  

He followed her eyes and then lunged forward, wrapping his fingers firmly around her biceps and pulling her flush against his chest, uncaring of her struggles. “Ah ah ah, Princess. I can’t have you running back into your castle to find help.”  

“Let me go!” She hissed, jerking in his grip and letting him assume that _that_ was her plan.  She didn’t need to escape, and she definitely didn’t want her parents involved; she only needed to get away long enough to transform without blowing her cover.

He chuckled, amused by her defiance.  “I will. Eventually.  But not until I’ve had my fill of you, and rubbed it into his face that I’ve had you.”

The dark promise in those words triggered another shot of adrenaline to her system.  “Fuck you!” She spat, and brought her knee up into his groin.

He doubled over, and his grip slackened enough for her to pull away.  “You _bitch_ ,” he snarled, lunging after her as she scrambled for the hatch.  She made it as far as her bed, but no farther.  He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking painfully as he used it to arrest her forward movement.

She cried out, and her hands went to her hair in dismay, trying to relieve the pain as he crawled down to kneel on her bed in front of her.  “Let me go, asshole!”

“I don’t think so, Princess.”  He forced her down onto the bed and pinned her in place with his weight, and Marinette felt true panic begin to blossom for the first time since she awoke.  

She whimpered, and his stark expression softened.

“I was going to make this good for you, you know,” he said conversationally, as if he hadn’t all but promised to rape her.  “I still could.  I don’t actually want to hurt you; I just want to use you to hurt _him_.”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.  You’re fucking crazy.”

“Maybe, a little.”  He nodded thoughtfully, apparently considering her words.  Then he focused on her once more.  “Now, are you going to take off your clothes for me like a good little Princess, or are you going to continue to fight me?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Adrien stretched out his body with a groan, arching his back and reaching his arms out away from himself as far as they would go.  Then he slumped back into his computer chair with a yawn.

It had been a long day and an even longer night, but he just couldn’t go to bed yet.  He’d only been home for 20 minutes or so, and regardless of the late hour, he still needed at least an hour to de-compress before he’d be able to sleep.

His hand went back to the mouse and brought up the LadyBlog, to catch up on the latest posts and discussions.

“Hey, kid?”

“Yeah,” he replied absently, skimming an article about the possibility of Ladybug being a student at a private school near the Eiffel Tower.

“Something is wrong.”

Adrien looked at Plagg with a frown.  “If you’re going to complain about running out of camembert again—”

“No!  I mean, something is _really_ wrong, kid.”

He studied his kwami’s unusually somber expression, and sat back in his chair with a sense of dread. “What is it?  There’s nothing on the LadyBlog, or the news.  None of my alerts have pinged.”

“I don’t know, exactly.” He shook his head, scowling in frustration.  “I’ve got that link with Ladybug’s kwami, right?  And what I’m getting from her is…well, it’s not good.  I think we should—”

“PLAGG!”  

“Tikki?”

“What the—?”Adrien spun his chair around, and saw a tiny red blur speeding across his room toward him. The blur tackled Plagg, and the two kwamis tumbled down onto Adrien’s desk.

Plagg pushed her off of him, rubbing his head, and she floated up a few inches. “What the hell, Tik?”

“Plagg, please!”  She grabbed his paw, and tugged him into the air with her.  “Transform him, we have to go, now!  She’s in trouble!”

Adrien felt that feeling of dread grow, icing his veins.  “Who’s in trouble?  Is it Ladybug?”

She turned her blue eyes on Adrien.  “Yes! Please, you have to hurry!  I’m going back to Marinette, just please, come as soon as you can!”  

With that, she zipped off as quickly as she’d come, ignoring his call for her to wait.  

“Now what, Plagg?”  He shoved his fingers through his hair, and then tugged on it anxiously.  “I don’t know where I’m going!”

“Sure you do, kid.  Go to Marinette’s.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Instead of answering, Marinette planted her heels in the mattress and tried to buck him off of her body. She succeeded only in shifting his weight to the side, and bringing the scowl back to his features.

“Nice try, Princess, but you’re stuck with me, at least until you help me do something about _this_.”  He tightened his grip on her wrists, and re-centered his weight, rolling his hips and pressing his erection against her.  “You can’t possibly be this uncooperative when he’s here with you, or he wouldn’t keep coming back.”

“I _still_ don’t know what the _fuck_ you’re talking about,” she hissed, glaring to cover the sick feeling pooling in her gut.  

He rolled his eyes. “Your little lap cat.”  He smirked at her sudden, wide-eyed understanding and he rolled his hips again.  “I know he comes here often, and why would he do that if you weren’t happily spreading your legs for him?”

“We’re friends, you dumb fuck.”  She tried again to buck him off of her, twisting her hips forcefully.  “He comes here because we’re _friends_.”

“Stop that,” he growled, thrusting against her more forcefully. “If you’re not fucking him, then I’m the black-clad savior of Paris.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s _me_ ,” said a new voice—one that sent an overwhelming wave of relief cascading through Marinette.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Chat Noir could feel Plagg’s anxiety feeding his own as he dashed across the rooftops.  Whatever was going on had thoroughly spooked his almost apathetic kwami, and even if Tikki’s desperate plea for help hadn’t given him enough cause for worry, Plagg’s distress would have done the trick.

Since he had no idea what sort of situation he’d find, he slowed as he neared the DuPain-Cheng bakery tried to take stock of the situation.  Initially, everything looked normal.  All of the windows were dark; everything was quiet.  The only red flag was the wide-open skylight on the balcony. Mari sometimes left it open at night during the heat of summer, but on cool nights like these, she kept it firmly shut.

Chat frowned. It just didn’t make sense.  Wasn’t he the only one who could get up to her roof?

Still frowning, he crept silently down to street level, crossed the street, and used his baton to raise himself up high enough to peer through the large circular window opposite Marinette’s bed. The sight of an obviously upset Marinette being pinned to her bed against her will brought cold fury, and razor sharp focus.  He called silently for his Cataclysm, and used it to completely disintegrate the window, mentally thanking Plagg for the utterly silent way in which it was done. Then he slipped in through the window, never once taking his eyes from the pair in the loft bed.

He could hear them clearly now.  The akuma, whoever he was, made some ridiculous quip about being _him_ and thrust aggressively against Marinette--and Chat raw red.  “No, I’m pretty sure that’s _me_ ,” he said from the shadows beneath the window.  Both Marinette and her assailant turned to look at him in surprise.

“Oh thank God,” Marinette breathed.  “Get this ass off of me, would you?”

Chat Noir smirked. “It would be my pleasure, Princess.”

The akuma shifted back, momentarily illuminating his face in the moonlight, and yanked Marinette up in front of him with one arm crooked around her neck and the opposite hand poised in front of her face.  “You come over here, Adrien, and I will slash her pretty face.”

Chat froze, feeling his heart drop into his toes.  Who was this guy, and how had he found out?  He darted a quick glance at Marinette.  She’d gone completely pale, looking sickly in the moonlight, but that was her only reaction.  Knowing her as well as he did, she would definitely be freaking out later, but at least she was holding it together for now. _One crisis at a time_ , he thought.  He locked his gaze back on the white-suited imposter.

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded, fearing he already knew the answer.

“Don’t you like my new ensemble, brother,” he drawled, smirking.

“Felix,” Chat Noir breathed, resignation tempering his fury.  His ring gave its first beep, and he swore under his breath.  

Felix scowled.  “I’m not Felix anymore, _Adrien_.  It’s Chat Blanc now.”

“Whatever.  Get your hands off of her.  I’m the one you’re pissed at, leave Marinette out of it.”

“I don’t think so, _brother_ ,” he sneered.  “You have everything that should be mine, so I am taking everything that is yours.”  He brought his hand down from her face to run it down her body, cupping her mound with a leer.  “I think taking your little whore will be the best part.”

Marinette shuddered in revulsion, and that was the moment that Chat broke.  He was across the room with both of his hands wrapped around Felix’s neck before he quite knew that he’d moved.  

Felix released his hold on Marinette with a cry, and clawed uselessly at the hands restricting both air and blood flow.  

“You are not going to touch her, Felix," he growled.  "Not now, and not ever again.”  He squeezed tighter, pulling that mocking white mask closer to his black one as his ring beeped again.  “If you so much breathe in her vicinity again, _I will kill you_.”

Chat Blanc jerked his chin frantically, trying to nod his understanding but inhibited by the hands collaring his throat.

“Chat,” Marinette said, putting a hand on his arm.  “Let him go.”

“He touched you,” Chat growled.  “He hurt you.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re a hero, Chat.  You don’t hurt people, you save them.  And you know that as an akuma, he is not himself.  You have to let him go.”

“Fine.”  Chat released his throat and braced on hand on his shoulder to steady him.  Then he pulled his fist back and plowed it into his brother’s face, knocking him out cold.

Marinette stared down at the unconscious akuma and sighed.  “I suppose that’s better than choking him out.”

Chat grunted, rubbing his knuckles in satisfaction.  “He can’t get into trouble this way, and I still need to track down Ladybug to come and purify the akuma.”

Marinette took his hand and began rubbing his knuckles herself, watching him with a careful expression.  “Adrien?” She asked.  “As in, Adrien Agreste?”

He nodded, eyeing her warily.  “Yeah, it’s me.”  His ring beeped again, and he dismissed his transformation.   There was no point in draining Plagg any further, since the cat was well and truly out of the bag now.

“Hmm.  Well, in that case, you won’t have to go too far to find Ladybug.”  She squeezed his hand, smiling strangely.  “Tikki, spots on.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Marinette sat curled in Adrien’s lap, still shaking with lingering shock.  She had been fine until she’d purified the akuma, released the cure, and dropped her transformation.  Then, once it was finally over, she’d taken one look at the young man groggily shaking his head in her rumpled bed, and burst into tears. Adrien hadn’t missed a beat—not when she transformed in front of him, and not when the night’s events finally hit her.  He’d gently pushed her down to sit on the chaise, and moved Felix to the balcony with a blanket and the strong suggestion that he _stay put_.  When he returned, he scooped her up in his arms, sat in the chaise with their backs to the bed, and held her as she cried herself out.  The tears had long since ceased, but she was still trembling. Marinette sighed and clenched her fingers in his shirt, hating the residual sign of weakness.

“Are you ok, Marinette?” Adrien asked quietly, rubbing her back.  “He didn’t—I mean, he didn’t get to—”

“He didn’t rape me,” she said quietly, shuddering.  “But he was going to.”

“I know,” he said, feeling sick.  “Marinette, I am so sorry.  This was my fault—”

“No!”  She sat up and gripped his shoulders earnestly.  “None of this is your fault.  The blame resides with _him_ , and with Hawkmoth.”

“I know that.  But I still feel responsible.”

She dropped her hands with a shrug.  “I could have transformed at any time, you know.  I wasn’t helpless.”

His hand stopped moving on her back.  “Actually, no, you couldn’t have.  Tikki left you long enough to come and get me.”

“Oh.”  She frowned, feeling very glad that she hadn’t known that at the time.  Knowing that she could transform was the only thing that had kept her from total panic.  “I’d wondered what you were doing here so late. I was just too grateful to care.”

“Plagg knew something was wrong, even before she showed up.  I’d have come to help regardless, but it would have taken me longer if I’d had to try to find you using his connection to your kwami.”

Marinette swallowed thickly, and tried very hard not to think about what could have happened if he’d been later in getting to her.  “I’m glad she went, then.”

“Me, too.”

She settled back against him with another sigh, and sought to change the subject.  “So…you are Chat Noir, and you have a brother.”

“Ha, yeah.”  He chuckled mirthlessly.  “I guess this was a night for revelations.”

“You being Chat didn’t surprise me as much as it should have, honestly.  But the brother?”

“Half-brother, actually. I didn’t know he existed until recently. Apparently, father had an affair with one of his interns years ago, and paid her to disappear when she turned up pregnant.  Felix didn’t even know who his father was until she died, and he found the answer among her things.”

“That’s…sordid.”

“Yeah.  Tell me about it.  Father even made her sign a contract, saying that if she took the money, that she was barred from ever telling anyone his identity _and_ from ever trying to collect more money.” Adrien sighed heavily, and rubbed a hand over his eyes.  “It was legally dubious, but she didn’t know any better.  She mismanaged the money, and since Father had her blacklisted in the fashion industry, she spent most of her life just barely getting by.”

Marinette snorted in disgust.  “God, your father is a piece of work.  And now Felix is punishing _you_ for it?”

“I tried to make friends with him, initially, but I guess he’s decided that I robbed him of the life he should have had?  I don't know.  I gave up, and he’s been following me for a while now.  I thought I was being careful, but obviously I wasn’t careful enough if he discovered that not only am I Chat Noir, but that I’ve been visiting you.” He scoffed, his lips quirked in a self-deprecating smile.  “I guess it is partially my fault.”

“It really isn’t,” she insisted.  “You didn’t make him bitter, you didn’t make him accept Hawkmoth’s possession, and you didn’t make him come after me.  Those were his choices, and his alone.”

“Hmm,” he said, clearly unconvinced.  “So, what are we going to do with him?  We’ve never dealt with an akuma like this before.  I feel like our standard cleanse-and-release isn’t appropriate.”

“If we do anything else, then I am going to have to tell my parents, and make a statement, and press charges…Not only does that set a dangerous precedent for akuma victims, but it will very publicly drag your family through the mud.”

“I don’t care about that,” he scoffed.  “But I care about you.  I don’t want to make this any harder for you.”

She was quiet for a few minutes, mulling over their options.  “How much of that was him, do you think, and how much was Hawkmoth?” She finally asked.

“I really don’t know him well enough to say.  But since we’ve never had another akuma do something like this?  I think it was him.”

She dropped her head back against his shoulder.  “I was thinking the same.  But, here’s another thought.  If I come forward with this, it’s going to place me under a lot of scrutiny.  It’ll make keeping my secret harder to manage. Yours, too, if you have to testify as both Adrien and Chat.”

Adrien swore, and Marinette agreed with his sentiment entirely.  It would be Miraculous indeed if they were able to keep their identities a secret through that kind of media circus.  Not to mention that they’d always maintained that akuma victims are not responsible for their actions when they are possessed.  To suggest that the victims might have some control over their actions after all…

It didn’t bear thinking about.

“What if we just keep an eye on him, and push for counseling,” she suggested.  “Most victims go for counseling anyway.”

He nodded.  “I think that’s for the best.”

“Me, too.”  

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, until a timid knocking on the skylight reminded them that they weren’t alone, and that they’d left Adrien’s brother out in the cold.

“I guess I’d better get him out of here,” Adrien said distastefully.  

“I hate for you to leave, but honestly, I want him gone.  Even if he wasn’t really responsible for what happened…”  She trailed off with a shrug.

“I understand.  Plagg, claws out.”  He stood, and deposited her back on the chaise with a kiss to the forehead. “I, uh, feel like we still have a lot to talk about.  “Can I come over later?  As me, I mean?”

Marinette smiled genuinely for the first time since waking up with her instincts screaming hours earlier. “I would like that a lot, _Chaton_.”

He returned her smile with a bow, and left through the skylight.


End file.
